The War: Operation Just Cause
Written by USMC Lance **WARNING: THIS FANFIC CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, CRUDE HUMOR, BRIEF SEXUAL CONTENT, AND BLOOD & GORE. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.** This is a Military/War story, set during the 1989 Invasion of Panama or codenamed, "Operation Just Cause" led by U.S. Coalition Forces to topple Panamanian dictator, Manuel Noriega. The story follows the U.S. Special Forces Operators of Naval Special Warfare Team Four part of the elite U.S. Navy SEALs. '' ''Please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated :) NOTE: Military times in this story is when the main event or action occurs. Part one Chapter One - Graduation Day 1500 Hours (3:00 PM) January 28, 1988 Naval Special Warfare Training Center, Coronado, California. It was the end of BUD/S (B'asic '''U'nderwater D'emolition/'S'EAL) for me and a few other men. End of physical and mental training to become a United States Navy SEAL. FINALLY. During these six long months, I learned a lot. Out of an eighty man class, only twenty of us graduated. That's only 25%. We trained hard, did whatever we could and our instructors challenged us if we TRULY wanted to do this job; to be the best in the world. Today, my brother Steven, a Vietnam Vet, attended and my mother did too at my tearful and emotional graduation. I was thirty two years old, eleven years in the Navy and I had tried three times to finish BUD/S, but each time, failing. They even tried to deny me an entry into training because of my age limit but because my commander, Lieutenant Burgess, showed them my determination and will, I was a rare exception. Now, today, I was a SEAL, '''SE'a, 'A'ir, and 'L'and. HOOYAH. "Perrier!" The announcer called my name up and I got an emotional applause from all our familes. I gave him a salute and shook his hand. I was named the honorman of the class after failing three times and trying even if I was too old, for my strength and determination. "I congratulate you, Petty Officer First Class Perrier and this whole class who have graduated and now have a chance to be part of this elite and dedicated special operations group. We hope you all succeed in your future and further endeavors." There was another applause and I gave a brief speech. "I thank you all, friends and family, for being here. It is definitely an honor to be one step closer to being part of this elite force and also be an inspiration for anyone who wants to do this. I thank all my instructors for giving me the much needed will and determination to finish the tough and extreme training. This has to be one of the most toughest and grueling things I've ever done in my life." "Thanks to everyone! Good bye!' I walked off the podium and then came another applause. It was over. We started cheering up and shit and the class were going crazy. I hugged my mom and my older brother, who was thirty six. "You better be a good SEAL," Steven said. "No promises." I grinned. Of course, we weren't actual SEALs. We still needed to complete Airborne School for three weeks starting on the first of February and SQT (SEAL Qualification Training) which was another six months. It was pretty much just advanced tactical training for all three specialties which were sea, air, and land combat situations. Then we would be assigned to our SDV's (SEAL Delivery Teams) and then our actual SEAL teams if we were deployed. It takes a lot of time and progress but It's all worth it at the end. We were gonna be U.S. Navy SEALs, quite possibly the very best in the Spec Ops community. And at the end.... The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday. Chapter Two - Jump Week 0900 Hours (9:00 AM) - 0920 Hours (9:20) February 16, 1988 United States Army Airborne School, Fort Benning, Georgia. "Hey, we're going down in five minutes! You're gonna complete your first jump, troops! Put on your 'chutes and and hold on to your asses!" The jumpmaster said. He was one of our instructors for airborne training and his name was Sergeant First Class Evan Dunleavy, 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment ("SOAR") or the "Night Stalkers", U.S. Army. Short, stocky, cropped brown hair, light southern accent, and sort of walked with a chip on his shoulder; he looked like he knew what he was doing. We were in a C-130, thousands of feet in the air and It was the last week of Airborne School at Fort Benning, Georgia, one of the U.S. Army's major installations in the states. It was where we were finally gonna actually jump after two weeks of learning how to jump off of towers and landing. Today was our first jump and we'd be practicing for the rest of the week and then I'm sent off to my SEAL Qualification Training with the other sailors. "Hey Perrier, stop leaning against the railings, man, or your ass is gonna fly out the damn plane when the doors open!" One guy said. His name was Petty Officer Second Class, Tommy Graham, twenty six years old. He was one of the guys I graduated in BUD/S with and we were good friends. He was tall, black, and had a stubble beard growing around his face. He kind of looked like Will Smith. "Hey man, I'll do it once you shave that shit on your face." I grinned and then he laughed. "Alright troops! Get ready for jumpin'! We're gonna open the doors on each side and we're going down in ten seconds, right after It's opened! Check your parachutes and keep your distances from the platform; I don't want men flying out when the doors are opened!" Sergeant Dunleavy said. "Let's do this!" Graham called over to me. I gave him a thumbs up and he did back. I don't know, but my heart began to race and the adrenaline began to pump. Some reason, I thought about my brother Steve. I remember the days. When he was in Vietnam and we'd write letters to each other. Usually, I'd always give mama a hassle going to bed because all I wanted to do was pretty much cook and read comic books. I remember in July back in '70 when we received the telegram that he had been WIA. Mom was crying and I was trying my best to comfort her. Me and Steve was all she had, after what dad did when Steve was six years old. Apparently, he ran off to Florida to live with his seventeen year old girfriends and bought a Ferrari and an hundred thousand dollar mansion, using cash he had collected from drug trafficking. He was distant away from us and Steve TRULY hated him for it, and I did too, but not as much as Steve. When Steve came back from Vietnam, everything was different. He was never outgoing and comical like he used to be, more silent, depressed, and more tired and exhausted. But I remember when we were on the bus from the airport in NJ when he came back from 'Nam and he wanted to sit next to this pretty woman; nice legs, nice chest and rear end, and also a pretty innocent face. Of course, me only fourteen and all my hormones, I didn't know how to react. Steve began to ask for a seat and the woman smirked and dropped on the floor, sitting in a pretzel like position. The bus driver told her to take a seat but she sat somewhere else. Steve just silently cried and no one talked for the rest of the ride. "Hey Perrier! What the fuck are you thinking about? Get your head out of your ass and stay focus!" Dunleavy looked at me with big, darting, blue eyes with blood pumping through the eye socket. "Huh.. Wha'? Sorry sir." I said, stumbling in words. "Ain't got no time for that. Stay on track!" "Yes sir." I replied. By this point, the doors were opened and all the air rushed onto our faces trying to pull us out of the plane and we were holding on to the handles. It was almost like a vacuum sucking dirt from a surface. "Alright, the countdown begins, fellas! Hold on to your asses! WOO HOO!" Dunleavy laughed. "In Ten..." "....Nine" "Eight..." "...Seven" "Six..." I adjusted my parachute and me and Graham quickly knuckle touched. "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE...." Dunleavy looked at all of us and the green light signaled for a parachute jump came on. "JUMP!" He finally screamed, doving out the the right door, followed by tens of other soldiers. We were on the left side and Graham and I were the first to jump out the left door. The air began to blow quickly on our faces. The scenery was absolutely beautiful; seas of trees, vegetation, farmland, and a couple of cities. The bright sunshine in a clear blue sky and the morning winter breeze. It was marvelous. We all pulled our 'chutes just seconds after diving. I almost panicked in intense fear when I first tried to pull the cord for the parachute but refuse to open the parachute and took me an extra two tries. I thought I was gonna die, Jesus, I had never been so scared in my life. The only other times were when I was afraid I couldn't enough push ups and pull ups in BUD/S because of how old I was getting and instructors put TONS of pressure on me because I was oldest out of the whole class and was the blunt of 'old hag' jokes. After about thirty seconds, we finally landed on the ground and all of use were ecstatic. "God damn, that was intense!" another one of our BUD/S colleagues said. His name was Petty Officer Third Class Ryan Kennedy from Tallahassee, Florida. He was this privileged white kid who had acne in all the wrong places and reminded me of a surfer in California. He was twenty one, the youngest out of all of us. I liked him, he seemed cool. "Hey man, It's what happens when you're becoming a SEAL." I told him. "Fuckin' A, man!" We laughed and high fived. "Yeah, we're going back to base for morning chow, let's go!" Sergeant Dunleavy signaled to go in formation. It was about 0910, ten minutes after the paradrop. He got on the radio and some trucks came over to bring us back to the barracks. Surprisingly, chow was pretty damn good. We had a full kitchen facility and we always got hot cooked food. For today, we had sausage patties, eggs, french toast with syrup, and hot coffee with milk. I took a seat next to Graham, Kennedy, and a Marine Corps guy named Baynes. He was a Staff Sergeant, had arms with fiery, red tattoos, and has this really sharp and edgy high & tight haircut. He was a tough guy, we could see it. "So what you cherries all about?" He said, while chuckling and removing his boonie hat, showing his sharp haircut. "Navy. We're just off from BUD/S." Graham said. He looked up at Sergeant Baynes with a serious expression. "Haha, so you're Special Forces, huh? Let me tell you something, you SEALs ain't that special," Baynes said with a serious tone and I looked around with an awkward face. He continued, "You sneak around with your little guns and face paint and try to get your little 'high value target' but most of the time, FAIL. That's why they got the Marines, to clean up your mess." "Okay, 'sir'. At least we don't kiss ass and obey every order we get. We improvise, because we're SEALs." Graham shot him a smirk and then Baynes grabbed him by the collar with both hands. The situation was tense. "Whoa, whoa, calm down, man!" another Marine called Edgerton came over to cut off the confrontation. The whole damn mess hall was watching us. He pulled Baynes away from Graham and then Baynes started screaming his lungs out. I saw Kennedy smiling and slowly drinking his coffee, watching the whole situation and Graham simply stared at Baynes with a grin. "This fucker telling me with the Corps is about! You cherries are fucking kids, fucking KIDS! You don't anything about the Corps! You don't know ANYTHING! And what the hell are you smiling at, cherry?! I'LL KICK YOUR ASS!" Baynes voice was menacing. Edgerton called him down and apologized for his behavior. "He tends to get out of hands sometimes, really gung ho. He's kinda a moron by the way. " Edgerton said, with a chuckle. "No problem, man." Graham said. Then Sergeant Dunleavy gave the word that breakfast was over and we returned to our barracks. After that, he told us we were gonna do a night jump and a few more jumps this week, and then graduation day. After graduation, my SEAL platoon will go to SQT for another six months and then we're assigned to a team. We were waiting for the road ahead.... Chapter Three - The TRP Days 0800 Hours (8:00 AM) September 2, 1988 Camp Lejeune, Jacksonville, North Carolina Well It's official. I am a United States Navy SEAL! Qualification Training literally ended a week ago. The instructors gave me the SEAL trident and I finally gained the honor. The honor, of joining the U.S. Naval Special Warfare community. And god-damn, it felt so good. Out of the twenty of us remaining, another five didn't make it. Only a mere fifteen of us earned the title. I repeat, FIFTEEN, out of an original class of one hundred trainees. It was also really sad because some guys had made it so far but then one small mistake they made fucked everything up. But they'll get the opportunity again, just like I did. They're young, they'll earn the title, but they are gonna have to FIGHT for it, just like me. Currently, I had just been assigned to SEAL Team Four, and we were doing live fire exercises. After SQT, I chose to be sent to machine gun school, while Graham went to breaching/demolitions school, and Kennedy went to sniper school. We were in this Marine Corps base, using their training range, firing our weapons and throwing grenades. I was moving through the desert field with my point man, some PO2 named Bridgewater, and we were shooting targets and taking cover. I had the brand new M249 SAW, so the instructors were on my ass to keep that weapon in good condition. "You don't clean that weapon, I'm gonna clean your ass." Chief Petty Officer Bakowski said, half joking, half serious. I looked at him and grinned, and he sighed. He was this Polish-American, thirty-something year old who looked uninterested about his career. He was the senior instructor, but I loved to get on his nerves sometimes. We finished clearing the range and he blew the whistle, signaling the end. He walked with swagger as he began to tell us to get in formation. "Okay gentlemen, get your asses in formation and go back to your bunks. Take care of any chores or duties in the barracks, and at 1100 hours, Instructors Garcia and Edmond will assist you with proper maintenance of your weapons. Stay sharp and move out!" We went to a secluded side of the barracks where we saw marines in the distance beginning to train and use the very firing range we were just on. Bridegwater and I were bunked together. He seemed okay. "Hey bro, you think when we're done with this we're gonna be in the shit? 'Cause hey, I didn't become a Navy SEAL to shoot at dummies everyday." Bridgewater kind of looked soft, not necessarily feminine but soft. I had been with him since BUD/S, but I hadn't just started talking to him until now. He looked soft but his personality was certainly not like that. "Relax man, we'll be in the shit in no time."